


Careless Man

by boughofawillowtree



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Sex, Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Gentle Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Light Dom/sub, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Rimming, Strong Aziraphale (Good Omens), Temperature Play, Tentacles, Undressing, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28464897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boughofawillowtree/pseuds/boughofawillowtree
Summary: Crowley gets absolutely wrecked by Aziraphale on his marble-topped desk. Unbeknownst to him, many of his colleagues in Hell are watching. Everyone has a great time.Based on the prompts/requests:Crowley getting absolutely spent on his desk and not realizing Hell is watching through his tv; STRONGziraphale; Aziraphale eating Crowley out, rimming, or sucking him off and acting as if he were some gourmet meal; voyeurism; tentacles; public sex; Dom Aziraphale
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 101
Collections: Good Omens - Kinky Kissmas Exchange





	Careless Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CynSyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynSyn/gifts).



> This is a gift for @CynSyn for the Kinky Kissmas gift exchange! Huge thanks to @SparkleInTheStars for organizing!

“Ey! Get down here! That flash bastard from earth left his television on!”

“Who?”

“Crawly. Snake guy. Remember?”

“What’s this about a television?”

“Ooh, what are we watching?”

Demons started to gather, as they tended to do whenever there was any sort of shouting. Or confusion. Or mayhem. Even the mere suggestion of potential mayhem was often enough to get a mob of demons assembled, which in itself tended to cause mayhem.

Today, the shouting was started by Dagon, who had gone into a conference room to call one of her minions when she discovered that the massive television strapped to a rolling cart was currently showing an interior view of a certain demon’s earthside flat.

And that wasn’t all she was getting an interior view of, so to speak.

***

Crowley, of course, had zero clue that he was currently broadcasting to an ever-growing audience in Hell. All of his attention was on Aziraphale, who had him backed up against his marble top desk and was slowly removing his clothing, button by button.

“Angel,” Crowley breathed, leaning forward to cling to Aziraphale’s shoulders, flushed and panting with desperation already. He ground his quickly hardening cock against Aziraphale, straining for sensation.

“Patience, my dear,” Aziraphale chided, lifting Crowley’s hands and setting them back on the cool marble of the desk. “I want to savour you.”

Crowley let his head fall back, exposing his throat to Aziraphale, who leant forward and kissed, nibbled, even nipped, at the sensitive flesh. All the while his delicate fingers made their way down Crowley’s shirt front, undoing each button with excruciating precision. 

When the angel finally dispensed with Crowley’s shirt and started in on his belt buckle, Crowley couldn’t help but whine, a keening, needy, pathetic sound that only made Aziraphale chuckle. 

But it was too much, Aziraphale fully clothed while Crowley was being taken apart layer by layer, and so he reached up again and tried to tug at the angel’s bow tie. 

Aziraphale made a little scolding noise that went straight to Crowley’s groin, getting him even harder and needier than he already was. “Do keep your hands where I put them, dear,” the angel warned. “I wouldn’t want you to lose your balance.”

Oh, but he was already completely unbalanced, absolutely undone by the sight of the angel leaning over him, of the warmth of Aziraphale’s breath, whisper-soft against his neck and now-bare chest, the firmness of his hands on Crowley’s waist.

Obediently, Crowley set his hands back down, splayed flat on the hard, cold surface of the desk. He shivered, knowing far more of his flesh would be pressed against the cold marble by the time Aziraphale was through with him.

***

“What are they doing?”

“Stop shoving! I can’t see!”

“Does he know we’re watching?”

The chaos in the conference room had spilled out into the hallways as news spread of the thrilling scene currently unfolding. Dagon, having completely given up on whatever contact she had planned to make, was seated in one of the room’s few chairs, one leg thrown up over the armrest, her hand idly playing with the squishy, pleasant effort she currently wore.

Every eye in the room was glued to the TV set as the watched a blond angel strip the demon’s earth clothes off, revealing a pale chest that was already glistening with sweat. Someone had turned the volume all the way up, so Crawly’s sighs and moans were fully audible, as were the domineering words of the angel who was currently sliding a very tight pair of pants down to the floor, exposing a quite erect and leaking cock.

Dagon licked her lips, feeling the press of similarly excited demons crushing in all around her, and kept watching.

***

Aziraphale had finally divested Crowley of his last item of clothing, and Crowley had never felt more vulnerable, standing before a fully clothed Aziraphale, naked and needy. He was lightheaded with it. No matter how many times they did this - Aziraphale, taking him apart like this, steady and solid and in control while Crowley absolutely lost his - it always hit him the same way. 

Better than drugs, he thought, his last coherent thought before he felt two strong hands on his thighs, lifting him easily up and onto the desk. Goosebumps covered his body as his bare ass made contact with the cold stone, and he shivered, letting his body adjust. His feet swung in the air, perfectly capturing how it always felt when Aziraphale took him like this. Floating, adrift, his feet fully off the ground. 

And of course Aziraphale was still standing, two shoe-clad feet a firm enough foundation to hold both himself and Crowley. He stepped in closer, wrapping one hand around the back of Crowley’s head to bring him in for a deep kiss, one that made Crowley melt and moan underneath him.

Crowley felt absolutely desolate when the angel’s lips finally lifted from his, until he felt those same lips peppering kisses along his jaw, over his throat, and down his chest. He gasped as Aziraphale spread his legs wide, his hands as unyielding as stone and yet still gentle.

“You look absolutely delectable, darling,” Aziraphale murmured. Crowley had no words to reply with, only a guttural moan, as Aziraphale knelt down and began kissing and lapping at Crowley’s thighs, at the creases of his hips, and oh -  _ oh -  _ at his cock.

***

“Woo! Get it, Crowley!”

“Is that allowed? With an angel, I mean?”

“Ey, Ligur, how come you never do me like that?”

The conference room smelled of lust, and envy, and a handful of other sins, as the throng of demons watched the scene unfolding. Many of them had followed Dagon’s lead and taken themselves in hand, and more than a few demons were helping each other out, turning the crowd of voyeurs into something resembling an orgy.

A rather cute succubus who Dagon recognized from her time in France appeared beside her, a look in her eyes that was at once a question and an offer. Dagon nodded and soon found herself with a tongue buried in her cunt, her fingers twined in her new friend’s hair. 

On the screen, Dagon watched as Crowley, too, was set upon by an eager mouth, the angel’s pink lips wrapped around his cock.

***

All of Crowley’s world had been reduced to the pleasure of Aziraphale’s tongue as it lapped at the underside of his cock; the angel’s throat, enveloping him with silky heat; the slight brush of a manicured nail against his balls. He let himself fall back on his elbows, back arched in ecstasy.

Aziraphale once again took hold of Crowley’s hips and tugged him forward, ensuring that he remained fully open and exposed to the angel’s attentions. He continued to lick and lave, paying special attention to every inch of Crowley’s cock, his balls, the delicate flesh beneath, the tender skin of his inner thighs.

And through it all, Aziraphale made happy noises of enjoyment, the same ones he made when he was eating a particularly delicious dessert. Crowley could have gotten drunk on those sounds, ones he had listened to for millennia, ones he had thought about when he was alone, one hand wrapped around his own cock, imagining what he might hear if the angel was with him in bed…

He never let himself imagine that he himself might find himself in the place of those treats, wrapped up like a crepe, steaming like a cup of cocoa, spread open like an oyster. All for Aziraphale, ready to be served up to him, to become the subject of those satisfied noises. But here he was, plated on a marble desktop like a fine meal, helpless to do anything but let Aziraphale dig in and taste him.

And Aziraphale did, with the same gusto he brought to a freshly baked slice of cake or a perfectly rolled bite of sushi. Crowley was lost in it, lost in the feeling of Aziraphale’s tongue, tickling at his balls, swirling around the tight whorl beneath. 

“Angel…” Crowley groaned as he felt his cock jerk and swell. “I’m...I’m gonna…”

Aziraphale simply hummed in acknowledgement as he continued making a meal of Crowley’s most sensitive bits, and that extra bit of vibration sent Crowley immediately over the edge.

***

“Fuck yeah!”

“I didn’t know angels could do that?”

“Uuuuunnnnffff!”

Dagon, having climaxed along with Crowley, fell back into her seat, relaxed. She let the succubus climb up into her lap, wrapping her arms around the smaller demon, still very much enjoying the unfolding scene. 

Someone was standing behind her, pressing up against the back of the rickety office chair, and Dagon felt tentacles wrapping around, gathering both her and the succubus in her lap up in a shared embrace. Dagon let her head lean against one of the tentacles, finding it pillowy enough to be comfortable despite the presence of slime.

She giggled at the sight of the succubus grinding on one of the tentacle tips, which had dipped between the succubus’s legs, teasing and poking. Dagon turned her eyes back to the television, feeling quite snug and cozy as the adorable creature on her lap began to squeal and squirm.

***

Crowley would have happily laid back and floated away on the strength of his orgasm, but Aziraphale, glutton as he was, wasn’t yet sated. He stood, wiping his mouth with a grin, then flipped Crowley over, as easily as he might have turned the page of one of his books.

The coolness of the table was a welcome shock against Crowley’s overstimulated nerves, and he lay his cheek down on it, letting his chest and cock rest against the desk. He heard the metallic sound of a belt buckle and then a zipper, and would have lifted his head to see the angel, but he was instantly distracted by a firm press against his entrance.

“Mmmmph.” Crowley tried to raise himself up on his arms, partly so he might see the angel, and partly to try and ease Aziraphale’s passage, but Aziraphale simply pressed a palm flat against his back and held him down, pinned flat to the desk. 

He loved it like this, loved being at Aziraphale’s total mercy, a toy for the angel, putty in his supernaturally powerful hands. Crowley let himself go limp and simply be manhandled, his eyelids fluttering closed as Aziraphale lifted and slid and tugged him into the perfect position, his feet still dangling, his body stretched out, his legs spread.

Kisses on the back of his neck told him Aziraphale had bent over him, and he shifted and sighed in delight. Slowly, slowly, he felt Aziraphale’s cock filling him up, stretching him out. He was ready, so ready, and the noise he made as Aziraphale bottomed out was the unraveling of his last bits of composure. 

Aziraphale knew just how to take Crowley to the edge, then drag him back; sliding over the demon’s prostate with the perfect rhythm and force to keep him at the peak of arousal. Crowley kicked at the air, his hands scrabbling against the smooth marble, mewling with wordless pleas.

For what, he couldn’t have said. For more. For less. For yes, yes,  _ yes _ .

When Aziraphale came, it was like the rumbling of a mountain, like standing in a valley beneath a thundering avalanche. Crowley cried out, overwhelmed by it all, and he felt himself come too, the orgasm shuddering through his body like a shock wave.

Aziraphale stood up then, walking around to the other edge of the desk so he could look down at Crowley while trailing his fingertips over the demon’s limp, spent body. Crowley looked up to see a loving gaze, tinged with satisfaction, and felt a dreamy smile take over his face.

As Aziraphale lifted him easily from the desk, ready to carry him upstairs for a shower and plenty of cuddles, a blinking red light caught Crowley’s attention from the corner of his eye. 

Had he left his television on after Hastur called him earlier that morning?

Oh well. Nothing for it now.

“Hope you enjoyed the show,” he mumbled, sending the TV a wink before letting his eyes fall closed, luxuriating in Aziraphale’s strong arms and the effortless journey upstairs. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song "Careless Man" by Matthew Perryman Jones
> 
> _  
> I want it all, I want everything  
>  I want the drug and the remedy  
> Heaven help me, there's a devil in my head  
> Is this real or a fantasy?  
> I watch your mouth when you talk to me  
> Please forgive me, I didn't hear a word you said  
> Your touch and every motion  
> We both know how it ends_


End file.
